Page 167 of Charming Like Us
Born into Famedoesn’t have a shot in hell if I don’t have material to make a good show, but focusing on a side project is exponentially risky now. I should be 100% focused onWe Are Callowayand not pissing anyone off.
But…
I can’t deny that being around Charlie means I’m around Oscar.
Working on the pilot does put us back in alignment, and what can I say? I like feeling balanced.
Just today, I’ve missed the way he looks at me like I’m distracting him. That stern and sexyI’m workingface. Which is sometimes followed by Oscar offering his snacks to me. How he looks put-off whenever I aim the camera on him.
“I’m not your subject, Highland.”
Yet, he’ll just watch me watch him through the lens. I also revel in the hectic days and the exhausted nights curled up in his arms.
Where we’re fighting sleep just to talk one second longer.
Before Jane returns in dress option 4, I type out a quick message on my phone.Hey, if you’re off-duty tonight, you want to meet me at WAC Offices for some fun?
I just hit send.
Reading it again, it sounds like I’m asking for sex. Don’t care. I do want to fuck him. As well as talk to him. And stare at him. Jesus fuck, I’d take standing in the same room as him. Being in Oscar’s presence isn’t even a want at this point. It’s a need.
I need him.
My phone beeps a second later.
Pick a time, Long Beach. I’ll be there.– Oscar
* * *
It’s late.
Too late for anyone to be at the production offices, so I’m not even a little concerned when Oscar and I stumble into my office, lip-locked since the elevator.
Blinds drawn shut, Oscar sightlessly pats around the wall for the lights. As he turns to flick them on, I hip thrust against his ass playfully.
He grins back at me. “Perfect form, Highland.”
“You’re not that bad yourself.” I grip the back of my tee and pull it over my head. “I’d let you fuck me.”
“Oh yeah?” Oscar rotates and catches my waist, drawing me closer. Pieces of his curly hair fall over a yellow rolled banana. “I’d do you.”
I kick off my shoes, and my muscles contract at the look in his eye. The one that’s eating me whole. “What does ‘do you’ entail?” I ask with an edging smile.
“Me inside you.”
Heat ascends, like flames lick the middle of my office.
“Where?” I ask.
“Against the desk. The floor. The wall. Anywhere…everywhere.”
My chest caves in a breathing pattern reminiscent of bad endurance athletes in high altitude. Consistently, unsurprisingly, Oscar makes me feel like we’re at 8,000 feet above sea level.
I let out a breathless laugh.
Fuck.
You’re attracted to him.How was that ever a doubt? It seems so obvious, so clear now.
